


Missing and in Action

by Capstar98



Series: SpideyTorch [1]
Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 21:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capstar98/pseuds/Capstar98
Summary: Johnny wakes up to find Peter never made it home. All it takes is a call to make his heart stop in his chest.(Established relationship; AU of the aftermath of the fight with Morlun, SSM 312, although you don’t have to read that to get it)





	Missing and in Action

**Author's Note:**

> So... I fell headfirst into this pairing, and this is what came out of it. Since there's just not enough of these two... just a one shot I needed to get off my chest, although I might add more if inspiration strikes. Enjoy!

Johnny woke slowly and reached his arm out across the bed. He frowned when his hands hit nothing but empty sheets. Peter obviously hadn’t come home last night. 

He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes with his fists. A look around the room proved that he was alone. 

Where was he? Not that Johnny wasn’t used to Peter leaving at odd hours and coming back through the window smelling like river water and sweat. But he still couldn’t help but worry. He’d been gone all day the day before, and now this?

He pushed the pessimistic thoughts out of his mind. It didn’t mean anything serious had happened. Most likely, Pete had just lost track of time. That happened a lot. The rising sun would remind him to come home. 

He looked at the clock and sighed. Well, he wasn’t getting back to sleep now. Might as well get breakfast.

Sue was making pancakes when he went down to the kitchen. Val was sitting at the table reading a book. He padded across the floor, scratching his head. “‘Morning,” he yawned. 

Sue chuckled. “Morning to you too, sleepyhead.” She scraped the spatula under a pancake. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Hey!” he protested as he filled his coffee cup. “What’s so weird about me being up early? I wake up! Come on, back me up on this, Val.”

She glanced over and only raised her eyebrow at him before turning back to her book. 

“Wow. Cold blooded.” Johnny shook his head and took a seat next to his niece. 

“She just knows you,” Sue laughed. “You want some pancakes? They’re blueberry.”

Johnny smiled over his coffee cup. “Ooh, yes, please.” He glanced at Val’s book. It was quite lengthy. “What’re you reading about over there?”

Val didn’t look up as she responded, “Molecular fusion.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows at Sue, who only smiled. “Molecular fusion, eh? That’s some good light reading for the breakfast table.”

Sue stacked a few pancakes on a plate and brought them over to the table. She shook her head when Val reached out for one. “Nope, you’ve already had quite a few. These are for Johnny. You can have more in a minute.”

“Thanks,” Johnny said, grabbing the syrup and pouring it over the stack. 

Sue went back to the stove and poured more batter on the pan. “Is Peter up yet?” 

Johnny paused mid bite. “Uh, yes?” he swallowed and pushed the pancake around on his plate. “Well, technically he never went to sleep, so…” 

She turned around to him and cocked her head. “Never came home last night?” She nodded. “So that’s why you’re awake, huh? You worried?”

“No, no.” Johnny said quickly -- and judging by Sue’s face, unconvincingly. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll be back soon.”

Sue nodded slowly. “Sure.” She picked up the blueberry box and poured some more on the pancakes in the pan. “You know, you should really talk to him about this sort of thing. You shouldn’t have to worry about him unnecessarily.” 

“I’m not worried,” he said, then added when Sue and Val raised their eyebrows at him, “I’m  _ not.  _ He does this. It’s his thing.”

“Well, he should at least text you or something.”

Johnny shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. “He’s probably crawling back in now. As it is, I’ve got blueberry pancakes to enjoy, and he’s missing out.”

* * *

Was noon too early to freak out? Because his anxiety levels were rising.

“What’s up, Johnny?” Ben asked. They were sitting on the couch, watching a cooking show, only Johnny wasn’t paying much attention. Reed and Sue were at a table behind them, discussing something that included a lot of many-syllabeled words. “You look like you just remembered you left the stove on.”

Johnny lowered his hand from his face and looked over at Ben. “What?” his brain caught up with what had been said and he smiled. “Was that a pun?”

Ben smirked, then shook his head. “Really, hothead. What are you thinking about over there? You didn’t even react when they said the secret ingredient was Lucky Charms.”

Johnny shrugged. “I -- I don’t know, just thinking.”

“Just thinking. How specific of you.” Ben turned back to the TV. “Well, if you don’t wanna talk about it…” 

Johnny looked down at his lap, and found that he had been wringing his hands subconsciously. He sighed. “Okay. It’s just...” Ben looked back at him. “I know it’s stupid, but Peter never came back last night.” He picked at a fingernail. 

Ben nudged him with an elbow. “That’s what you’re worried about? Johnny, how many times has this happened? And he always comes back fine, sporting some souvenirs from Mexico or something.” He smiled, and gestured towards the screen with a big hand. “You should be more worried about Andre over here. He just said he wanted to use the ice cream machine.”

“What?” Johnny chuckled, relaxing. “They never learn.”

Ben paused, then said, “You wanna watch the news instead? He might be on there.”

He considered a moment before shaking his head. “No, that’s that’s alright.” Ben was right. There was no point in worrying yet. Peter had been gone for long stretches before. 

He tried to lose himself in the show. Didn’t help that today was their off day, and he couldn’t get distracted with a big project. He was supposed to have spent this day with Peter. Man, was he in for trouble when he got back.

* * *

 

He was helping Sue unload the dishwasher before dinner when he got the call. 

It wasn’t a number that he recognized, but he answered anyway. “Hello?”

“Johnny!”

His eyes widened when he realized who it was. “Peter?” Sue shot him a glance, but he ignored it. “Where are you? And who’s phone are you using?”

Peter sounded tired, his voice strained -- but his words were rushed. “Johnny. Oh, thank god.” 

Johnny’s chest clenched. Something was wrong. “Peter? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Peter went on as if Johnny hadn’t spoken. “When May didn’t answer, I thought maybe... But you answered.”

Johnny pressed the phone closer to his ear, his heart pounding. “What are you talking about? Peter?” he said again, when there was no response. “Tell me what’s happening. Do you need help?”

Peter was breathing quickly. It sounded like he had started swinging. “I don’t have a lot of time. I hope this will work. God, I’m so tired.”

“Please, tell me what’s happening. Tell me where you are!” he said desperately. “We can help you!”

“No time. Johnny --” there was a pause, and he strained to hear what was happening. Then Peter’s voice was back loud and clear. “I’m sorry. I need to go. I love you.”

“Peter!” But he had hung up. “Agh!” 

“Johnny?” Sue frowned. 

He ran into the lounge, his heart in his throat. 

Sue ran after him. “Johnny! What’s going on?”

“Turn on the news!” he yelled, grabbing for the remote when Ben didn’t act quickly enough. 

When the channel turned, it took him a moment to process what he was seeing. Then his chest turned to ice. Oh, god no. 

“Wait, we’ve seen that guy before,” said Ben. 

“Is that…” Sue squinted. 

Johnny clenched his fists. “Morlun.” He turned and ran, looking for the fastest way out. 

“Hey, slow down, Matchstick,” Ben called out.

“Johnny, stop!”

He didn’t listen, and leapt out onto a balcony. “Flame on!”

* * *

 

The sun was setting as he raced across the sky, heading for central park. His heart was racing in his chest. Morlun. That’s what had Peter tied up? This guy was dangerous -- extremely powerful and almost indestructible.

Why hadn’t he called him!? He had promised. He had said -- 

Johnny’s thoughts halted in his head when he saw the damage. 

Oh, no.

Branches blown off trees, ridges paved in the dirt, fences dented and broken. He scanned for the red and blue, but couldn’t see anything. He could be hidden under tree cover, though.

His frantic eyes caught sight of movement and activity on the edge of the park, and he dove towards it. He touched down among police and first responders, fire still licking around his body. He snuffed it out and ran past the crowd, ignoring the voices calling out after him. 

He arrived just in time to see Peter slam his fist into Morlun’s jaw. 

Johnny’s breath caught in his throat. Peter looked terrible. His suit was torn open in a dozen places, blood leaking from scrapes and slashes. His left arm was slung up in some kind of makeshift sling made from webbing. And his face -- the eyes on his mask had been knocked out, revealing his real eyes. His hair poked through in several places, and a tear on the jawline revealed a huge bruise. 

Peter hadn’t seen Johnny yet. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling quickly as he stared down at Morlun, his hand still curled in a fist. “That’s it,” Johnny heard him say. “Stay down, big fella.” 

Morlun was groaning on the ground. Peter easily stepped out of the way as he swung a drunken fist. 

Johnny spotted what looked like a gun strapped to Peter’s back, and another nearby, then the darts that stuck out from Morlun’s chest and neck. Must be a tranquilizer. 

Johnny moved forwards and called out, “Spider-Man!”

Peter was webbing Morlun to the ground now. He snapped his eyes towards him, startled. What looked like relief flooded his face before it hardened again. “Torch,” he shook his head, and held up a hand. “Don’t get too close, he’s still dangerous.”

Johnny paused. He was about 20 feet from Peter now, and he just looked worse the closer he got. His eyes were ringed with dark, and his chest looked wrong -- he must have broken ribs. He moved closer again. “I can take care of myself,” he said, and walked up to Peter’s side. He desperately wanted to hold him close, kiss him -- but he couldn’t, not with so many people watching. The public didn’t know Spider-Man and the Human Torch were together.

Peter swayed on his feet as he looked down at Morlun. “You know you can beat me, and that’s your downfall. You think you’re everything, and that makes you nothing. Really, Morlun, ya’ basic.” Morlun just groaned.

Johnny raised his eyebrows, amused. “Good job, Spidey. Now  _ let’s go _ . Before you give me a heart attack.”

Peter flinched, startled. He looked confused. “Johnny?”

He held out a hand to steady him, his brow creased in concern. Had he already forgotten Johnny was here? “You don’t look good. Now come, okay? You did it. Let’s get you safe.”

Peter blinked.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Johnny grabbed on to him and flamed into the sky. 

“Johnny,” Peter said roughly. Johnny turned to look and was shocked to see tears running down his face. He touched down on a rooftop and held Peter by his shoulders in front of him. 

“What’s wrong? Are you bleeding out?” He looked Peter over frantically. “Talk to me, Peter.”

Peter looked at him for a moment, his eyes wide, seemingly just taking him in. Then he lurched forwards and wrapped his good arm tight around Johnny’s waist. 

He was only startled for a moment. Then his arms wrapped around Peter. “It’s okay. You did it. You’re a moron, but you did it.”

Peter pressed his face into Johnny’s neck. He was shaking. “I thought I would never see you again,” he said quietly. 

Johnny held him closer. “You’re alright. I’m alright. Now let’s go, okay? You smell like animal poop.”

Peter chuckled softly. “Would you believe I karate kicked a bear?”

He smiled. “Okay, you’re gonna have to explain that one.” 

Suddenly Peter groaned, and his arm retreated to hold his stomach. He swayed alarmingly. “Ugh, my head…” 

“Peter!” Johnny gripped his shoulders, his heart racing. 

Peter blinked slowly. “I think… ‘m gonna pass out.” His knees buckled, and suddenly Johnny was holding up all of his weight. “‘M so tired.”

“No, no. Stay awake. Stay -- Peter!” He gave him a shake, but it was no use. Peter was out like a light, dead weight in his arms. 

He grabbed on tight and headed for the Baxter building, his heart in his throat. 

* * *

“Wow, that does not look comfortable.” 

Johnny blinked his eyes open and frowned, confused. “What?” His eyes focused and he saw Peter lying on the medical bed, his hair messy and his mouth cracked in a tired smile, the bruise still blooming on his jaw.

In a jolt, everything came back to him. “Peter!” he jumped off of the chair he had been sleeping in and raced to grab Peter’s hand. “Oh, thank god.” 

Peter looked at him softly, and raised his other hand, which was wrapped in a splint, to cup Johnny’s cheek. Johnny soaked in his gaze. After a moment, though, he frowned. “What were you thinking?” he snapped. 

Peter blinked and dropped his hand. “What?” 

“I said, what the hell were you thinking? Why did you go after Morlun alone?”

Peter looked at his lap, moving his hand to rub the back of his neck, but stopping with a groan when the movement was too much. 

Johnny frowned in sympathy, but only added, “You said you would stop this. That you wouldn’t do these kinds of things alone.”

“It happened so fast, I…” Peter looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you --”

“Scared me? Peter, that phone call...” he shook his head, and stepped back from the bed. Peter looked back at him brokenly. “That was terrifying. And also gave you plenty opportunity to tell me where you were -- to get help!”

Peter took a shaky breath and looked down at his hands. Then he said roughly, “He would have hurt you.”

Johnny frowned. “How do you know? And he almost killed you!” 

“I know,” he replied softly. “I thought… for a minute there… but it worked.” His face was pale. 

Johnny paused, his mind slowing for a moment as he took in Peter’s expression. He pulled the chair up to the bed and sat down. “What happened?” 

Peter’s lip trembled, and Johnny thought his heart would break at the sight. He carded a hand through Peter’s hair, who leaned into the touch. He took a shaky breath, and then said, “I know I shouldn’t have believed him, I do. But just that he knew… I guess I stopped thinking straight after he threw my head into a few dozen brick walls.” 

Johnny didn’t say anything; he just let Peter say what he needed to say. 

Peter looked up into his eyes desperately. “He said he had kidnapped you and May. That there was nothing that I could do, and that he was going to kill you, right after he killed me.”

There it was. Johnny kept his hand in Peter’s hair and grabbed his arm with the other.

“My phone got crushed, so I couldn’t call anyone. I managed to find another one, but when I called May, and she didn’t answer… But then I called you, and you were fine. You were okay. So I knew that I could finish it.”

Johnny tilted Peter’s chin towards him and leaned in. The kiss was tender, but turned more desperate as Peter pressed in, his hands gripping just a little tighter than he normally would. When he pulled back he moved his hand to Peter’s cheek. “I’m okay,” he said. “You should be more worried about yourself.” 

“I know,” Peter replied. “I know, I just…”

Johnny understood. He pressed their foreheads together. Then a thought struck him, and he drew back. “Still, that phone call -- it almost felt like you were saying goodbye.”

Peter blinked. “I guess… maybe I was.”

Johnny leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “That was your goodbye to me? That?”

Peter sighed as his head fell back against the pillows, and he closed his eyes. “Are you mad at me? I can’t really tell right now.”

Johnny considered that. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s hard to be mad at you when you look like a kicked puppy.”

Peter’s lips twitched in a smile, his eyes still closed. 

“But it just… it’s not easy, watching you get hurt like this.”

Peter opened his eyes suddenly. “Johnny, I love you.”

Johnny blinked. “I love you too. That’s why --”

“Exactly. We love each other.”

“Are you trying to distract me here?”

“I’m trying to be sincere, Hothead.” He pushed himself up on his elbows, flinching a little as it pulled at his ribs. “I’m sorry my goodbye, or whatever that was, wasn’t very poetic. I’ll prepare a sonnet for the next time.”

Johnny shook his head. “The next time,” he muttered. “Yeah, well, the next time could you try and steal a phone to call me  _ before  _ you get beaten half to death?”

“What I’m trying to say here,” Peter continued, “is that we love each other, and we’re superheros. When I see you hurt, it hurts me.”

“How do you think I’m feeling now?”

“And I wish we never had to feel it, but we do. And I don’t want it to stop hurting like that.”

Johnny frowned. “What are you…” his eyes widened, and Peter smiled. “Oh.” He sighed, and grabbed Peter’s hand. “Well, next time we get beat up together, okay?”

Peter squeezed his hand. “Deal.”

“Now, what was that about karate chopping a bear?”


End file.
